


One and Only

by MVgetanAttitude



Series: Seven is a Lucky Number [1]
Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Choppy narration, Gen, Guilty Junhoe, Hanbin has a screwed sense of self-worth, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mainly Hanbin/Bobby but heavy on the OT7, Miscommunication, Panic Attacks, Protective Bobby, Rewrite in Progress, clingy Hanbin, hanbin-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2019-10-15 17:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MVgetanAttitude/pseuds/MVgetanAttitude
Summary: Ever since the massive success of Love Scenario, Hanbin has been working his ass off to write something even better.Honestly, he doesn’t think he deserves the title of Songwriter of the Year. None of what he’s writing sounds even remotely good.Until finally, an idea for a song that may actually be good enough to use.iKON loves their leader. It was just meant to be a silly, little prank that they would resolve a few hours after, just to get back at Hanbin for being so harsh recently.They really didn’t mean for it to go that far.REWRITE IN PROGRESSRewrite: 30% done | Current word count: 9,122 | Date started: 04-09-19Original: Word count: 22,114 | Date published: 24-01-19 | Date completed: 08-02-19Chapter 1-3 is rewritten!!Ignore 4-9





	1. I'm standing right at rock bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!
> 
> I'm back revisiting my first work, coming at y'all with a rewrite.
> 
> Deciding how to format this was incredibly difficult, and I've changed my mind a few times on it, but I don't think I'm gonna repost the original work, as I just really hate it lol.

“Again.”

“What was wrong that time?” Jinhwan snaps. Everyone can see he’s beginning to lose his patience, but not a single person blamed him.

“Yunhyeong was off-beat. It’s one, two, three  _and_ four. He keeps stepping out on the half-beat, which throws Donghyuk and Chanwoo off because they can’t keep rhythm by themselves, apparently,” Hanbin snaps right back at the eldest. 

He’s being harsh, and he knows that, but he continued to pick out even the most minor mistakes in the group’s choreography. Hanbin has been practically under a microscope these past few months, and by association, iKON. 

“Do it again.”

“Listen, Hanbin,” Bobby tries this time, “Everyone is tired and hungry. Whatever problems you’re pointing out won’t be resolved by exhausting ourselves.” They’ve been practicing the same part for almost an hour at this point, and judging by Hanbin’s current mood, that’s all they’ll end up doing.

The rest of the group stands there, watching, waiting for something to happen between Bobby’s overly placating calm and Hanbin’s tense glare.

No one moves.

“Do. It.  _Again.”_

It’s at that very moment that Junhoe loses it, walking between Hanbin and Bobby’s staring contest as he stands with his hands up. “Okay. Fuck this,” he says, before turning to look at Hanbin directly, “And fuck you.”

And then he walks out.

Jinhwan barely spares a second glance at the leader’s shocked face before he follows Junhoe out. 

Chanwoo and Yunhyeong don’t even look at him before they walk out, too.

“Hyung,” says Donghyuk timidly, “He didn’t mean it. He’s just been grumpy recently, you know how he gets,” following it with a nervous laugh as he backs out of the room.

For some reason, the idea that Donghyuk seemed almost  _afraid_ of his reaction just puts Hanbin more on edge.

What good was he as a leader? He seems to make them sad or agitated more than he makes them happy, and he knows it’s his fault.

_He just didn’t want to fail them again._

“Next time, don’t be such an ass. Listen to what they,  _we,_ are trying to tell you.”

Hanbin doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look up, just listens to the sound of Bobby’s shoes on the hardwood floor.

The door shuts and he’s alone again.

Okay. Fine. 

It’s only 10. He can go to the studio and get some work done. He’ll leave before sunrise and be back at the dorms. He can apologize to everyone tomorrow before their schedule. That gives them time to calm down and sleep. 

Okay.

  
  


Not okay.

He’s been working on the skeleton of a song for a few days now, but he still can’t seem to get it right. Every time he leaves feeling happy about a piece of it, he hates when he listens to it the next day. YG and a lot of the senior producers have been stressing him the hell out, recently. Hanbin knows they don’t  _mean_ to, except maybe YG, but with all of the hype surrounding Love Scenario and his Songwriter of the Year award, the pressure has been suffocating.

None of the songs he has started sound even close to ready, just a bunch of half-organized chords and a few scattered lyrics, made even more jumbled by the mess in his head.

Hanbin’s beginning to feel the all-too-familiar grasp of panic when suddenly, he has an idea. It’s almost as if everything fades to the background, he’s changing measures and bars and adding different effects to it before he loses the lifeline.

After a bit of reworking it, he plays the song back and smiles. 

This could work.

Sure, it may need some fine-tuning, but it actually sounds really good.

He can’t wait to finish it, draft up a rough harmony, maybe some lyrics. Soon, he’ll be able to ask Bobby his input on the song, and they can begin to finalize their lyrics and line distribution.

It’s been a while since Bobby has been in his studio, now the older rapper prefers to work separately, or on his own stuff. Hanbin misses their old routine, his studio feels so lonely in the middle of the night.

 

Maybe he should take that as a sign to stop sleeping there, because it’s only after a few hours of restless sleep that Hanbin wakes up.

The banging on the door is the first thing that registers.

The second thing is the familiar pain that shoots up his back when he lifts his head off of his folded arms.

The third, however, is the least pleasant. His manager is the one banging on the door, and he sounds annoyed.

“KIM HANBIN. OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW.”

Oh, right. The schedule.

_Shit._

Hanbin rushes to close everything down before scrambling for the overnight bag he keeps in his studio for this very reason.

 

By the time he makes it to the van, all of the others are already piled in there, and it became obvious that they still were upset with him.

Usually, when he came late, they forced him into the back row between Junhoe and Chanwoo, but no one would even look at him. 

Hanbin takes the only open spot, dropping down into the front seat closest to the door, letting his head fall against the backrest. He thinks he can see Bobby shooting him a worried look, but Hanbin didn’t really understand why. Sure, he probably looked like shit, but that shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary.

The van jolting to a stop is what wakes him up, Hanbin realizing he must have fallen asleep while quickly collecting his stuff, not wanting to make the others wait for him to get out.

  
  


Maybe it’s a good thing he was used to not getting enough sleep, otherwise he’d probably feel pretty miserable right now.

No, wait. He still feels miserable.

The headache that was currently drumming away at his temples made him feel vaguely nauseous, but that also seemed to be a reoccurring theme. He knew stress headaches when he got them, and he got them a lot, to know it wouldn’t be going away any time soon.

But maybe he could lessen one burden, rid himself of the sharp glares aimed at the back of his head.

His original plan was to apologize during breakfast, maybe offer to take everyone out for dinner or drinks, as an apology for being so harsh recently.

Except that plan got dashed when Hanbin ended up waking up with barely enough time to brush his teeth before being pulled out of the building by Jaeho, leaving him trying to talk to the others just minutes before their interview.

Keyword—Trying.

Between the time it took him to get out of styling——For a radio show?——The others already had their media faces on, and time was ticking down.

He still manages to catch everyone just before they get mic-ed up, varying emotions being directed at him in doing so.

“I’m really sorry that I’ve been so snappy recently,” he starts, “I’ve just been focusing on this one song that’s been giving me problems for some time now.”

He says it sheepishly, can’t quite help the nervous laugh that follows, either.

Or the way he looks to Jinhwan first for reassurance, but ultimately doesn’t get any. 

He knows Jinhwan doesn’t understand him and his borderline obsessive attachment to his music, but the eldest has always been the most sympathetic towards Hanbin, especially with his struggles as the leader.

So if Jinhwan is still upset with him, then it’s definitely something Hanbin was at fault for. 

Jinhwan is still the first to answer, and when Hanbin looks up, their eyes meet before the vocalist tersely mutters, “It’s fine,” before walking away.

It doesn’t even feel like a slight forgiveness, it feels like being dismissed and written-off.

But it was still better than what he gets from the others.

Chanwoo and Donghyuk both smile at him, but it feels too forced and tense with the atmosphere, before they follow the eldest out. 

Yunhyeong manages to whisper a meek, “We’re gonna be late,” before reaching out like he was going to grab Hanbin’s hand, but thought better not to, and he’s gone too.

Junhoe said nothing, barely waited for Hanbin to even finish before he walked away.

It hurt. It really fucking hurt but he knew it wasn’t anything he didn’t deserve.

Bobby walks up to him then, hovering a hand over his shoulder before finally placing it down. He uses it to turn Hanbin around and steer him towards the set, “Give them time,” he says, “Take care of yourself.”

The words almost make him cry.

 

The interview is stiff, jokes don’t quite land and Hanbin can only force himself to give so many smiles before he feels like cracking, but Junhoe and Bobby more than make up for his silence with their overly-awkward banter that everyone loves.

Hanbin doesn’t  _want_ to feel left out, but suddenly there are inside jokes that he’s missed after so much time spent cooped up in his studio.

Yunhyeong does, however, mention how he missed cooking for him, and Hanbin decides he’ll take whatever he can get.

 

That doesn’t make the ride home any less uncomfortable.

Even with everyone back to joking around and not censoring themselves, they still stay wary with him. He knew he must be glaring, but the headache he had was only getting worse as time passed, still leaving him feeling dizzy and out of it.

He’s not used to this. To not being able to rest his head on Yunhyeong’s shoulder, or play with Bobby’s hands to keep himself grounded, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.

It’s just one van ride. Everything will be okay again if he just gives them some space. They don’t want him snapping again, and that’s fair. He’s been unfairly harsh recently, they were right. They were right and he was wrong.

It’s his fault, but they’ll forgive him. It’s okay.

He’ll just give them space.

 

But Junhoe still won’t look at him.

 

* * *

 

By the time they get back, Hanbin’s almost in tears with how bad his head was pounding. Bobby shoots him another worried look, but Hanbin knows he gets it, has dealt with Hanbin’s headaches enough times to know when to comfort, and when to leave him alone.

It’s only a little after 4 in the afternoon, and the others are all arguing about where to eat and Hanbin is barely stopping himself from fleeing to his room to sleep the headache away.

He wishes they were all in the downstairs dorm, knowing that if he walked away now, he’d still be able to hear the commotion from his room.

“I really,  _reeeeaaally_ don’t want to cook tonight,” starts Yunhyeong, shooting his best puppy-eyes to the leader, “Let’s just go somewhere cheap, like the ramen bar down the street.”

“Dude, I don’t care where we eat, but let’s decide now,” Bobby whines from his spot on the floor, “I’m starving.”

Five pairs of eyes are on Hanbin at that moment, everyone but Junhoe looking to him to make the final decision. Truthfully, he’s not even that hungry, headache making any thought of food completely unappetizing.

“Honestly, guys, just go wherever. I’m probably gonna crash for a bit before heading to the studio.”

He can see the way Bobby wants to speak up, only holding himself back when Hanbin shoots him a tired glare.

“Do you want me to bring you anything back?”

Shaking his head at Bobby’s question, Hanbin stands up to walk to his room, trying to ignore the way his vision blurs for a few seconds after he stands up.

He vaguely hears Chanwoo’s mumbled, “Okay, ramen it is then,” before shutting the door to his room, not even bothering to turn the lights on before pulling the covers over his head. 

 

Leaving the remaining six to gather phones and wallets, slipping on shoes before heading out of the building.

It’s a short walk to get to the ramen shop, and all of the fooling around only makes it feel quicker.

Bobby doesn’t join in with the others, thoughts still filled with Hanbin and just how little he’s seen him recently, how little he’s seen him smile.

Not that weary,  _barely-holding-on_ smile. He misses the younger’s whiny complaints and uneven eyes when he laughs. He misses Hanbin.

And Bobby knows that’s partially his fault, knows how Hanbin gets under pressure but hasn’t been around as much to help him through it, not like he used to.

Hanbin puts up such a strong front that it’s hard to see when he’s struggling, never wanting to come off as weak or incapable, especially in front of the others.

Bobby  _hated_ the mask Hanbin put on. He hated the way he refused to slow down, never giving himself a break because he knows it will lead to a  _break-down._

Not to mention the way Hanbin feels the need to alienate himself from the others. He was only putting more space between him and the rest of them, as if he just expected them not to notice how he was cutting them off.

They were constantly on the receiving end of Hanbin’s temper and, even to Bobby, it almost made them feel inadequate. It was difficult,  _even to Bobby,_ to spend time with the leader without feeling suffocated.

 

By the time the six of them are seated and waiting on their order, the topic switches once more to their absent leader, courtesy of Junhoe.

“Okay, so,” Junhoe starts, everyone turning to face him, “As I’m sure you have all noticed, Hanbin has been acting like an absolute a—” He barely catches himself at Jinhwan’s over-exaggerated glare, realizing just how loud he had been talking, “Uh—Right. Sorry…But, like I was saying, Hanbin has been really annoying lately. I’m sick and tired of getting yelled at for no reason, or having to sit back while Hanbin continuously ribs at Chanwoo or Yunhyeong-hyung for minuscule mistakes. It’s not fair, and I’m not just going to sit back and take it.”

The table falls silent for a short amount of time while their food is being placed in front of them, not wanting anyone to overhear their complaints.

Maybe it isn’t smart to bring up such topics in public, but they’ve all hit their capacity of understanding and compassion for the stress their leader is, undoubtedly, under.

“So, what are you getting at?” Donghyuk probes as he pokes at the noodles in his bowl, “We’re all tired.”

“What I’m  _saying_ is,” Suddenly the grin on Junhoe’s face turns a little sharper, a little more cunning, “We should play a prank on him. Something small, and stupid, that’ll really push his buttons. He’ll blow up over nothing and then Dong can start crying, or something,” He ignores Donghyuk’s  _‘Hey!’_ and continues on, “So when he sees poor, little Donghyuk crying, he’ll realize he’s being a big  _jerk_ over nothing.”

The way he sits back, arms crossed and smug expression on his face, was almost comical, but no one is laughing.

Rather, five pairs of eyes were blankly staring at him.

Chanwoo snorts, “You’re even dumber than I thought if you believe that would work. Hanbin-hyung has made all of us cry at some point, even you.”

“Yeah,” agrees Donghyuk, “I’m pretty sure tears just feed his rage.”

“Well, how about this? After Hanbin goes off, we just pretend to ignore him for, like, a day? Or something. Just long enough for him to see that what he says does hurt us,” Yunhyeong says, looking a little hesitant even at his own idea.

“Let’s say we go with that, then what?” Jinhwan asks, looking more serious than he had all dinner, “What do we do to piss him off?”

“You mean other than just breathing?” grumbles Chanwoo, arms crossed and thinking about all of the scoldings he’s gotten recently.

Junhoe waves his chopsticks around wildly for a moment, before swallowing the noodles he had in his mouth to speak, “Just mess with his studio.”

“No, absolutely not,” Bobby speaks up for the first time since the ‘plan’ was announced, “Don’t fuck with Hanbin’s studio because then  _I_ have to deal with the repercussions.”

“Nothing permanent, dude. We can just move whatever song he was working on so he can’t find it.”

“Yeah,” chimes Jinhwan, “And since you’ve been the most hotheaded, June, you can say you deleted the song.”

“And what exactly will you gain from this?” Bobby sighs, not liking the plan but knowing he won’t be able to stop them.

Junhoe shook his head, “We already explained that, man. We make him mad, he starts yellin’ and then we ignore him for a little. After a few days, he’ll come crawling back to apologize and then it’s over. Nothing permanent,” he assures again.

 

By the time everyone’s finished and the bill is paid, Bobby still can’t shake the bad feeling lingering in his gut.

He doesn’t have much time to think on it, however, because the others decide that tonight was the perfect time to make the first move.

So as he’s walking back with Chanwoo and Yunhyeong, the two acting as distractions, if needed, while the other three head to Hanbin’s studio, Bobby can’t help but think about every possible way this could go wrong.

Maybe it won’t, though. Maybe it would go exactly how Junhoe planned.

Hanbin would finally realize that he can’t just use them as a release for his frustration, no matter how much he’s struggling.

Bobby’s tried to talk to Hanbin several times in the past few weeks, but each attempt was met with a scathing look and cutting remarks.

His words hurt them, but that doesn’t mean they have to hurt him back.

Bobby sighs. He knows this isn’t going to end well for  _anyone._


	2. I’m walking on this path alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey wassup y’all lol 
> 
> Sorry I’m such a shit head haha

It’s not going to start well either, apparently, seeing as Hanbin wakes up with the migraine still drumming against his temples, car horns blaring and echoing around his head.

The quick glance he spares over at his bedside clock gains him the knowledge that it is currently 5 AM and he overslept, as well as causes small pinpricks of light to flare up behind his eyelids.

Migraine or not, the world will continue to spin without him, no matter how bad he feels.

Days like this were always the worst, the days when you know it’s going to be bad as soon as you open your eyes.

It always starts with the slight breathlessness, waking up feeling as if he was running from something all night, followed by an uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest, almost like a weight. One Hanbin knows very well.

There was no real reason for it, everything was going okay, recently. Nothing serious to work himself up over.

But the uncomfortable feeling isn’t going away, and Hanbin knows it's going to be a bad day.

He presses a hand over his heart, to assure himself that his breathing is perfectly normal, the rise and fall of his chest deep and rhythmic under his palm.

It’s normal, but at the same time it’s wrong. It’s so wrong. He knows the feeling, the weight. The pressure wrapping around his chest until it slowly chokes him. He knows if he continues thinking about it, he really will lose it, lose his breath.

A distraction. He needs a distraction.

Something to keep his thoughts occupied and away from the tightness in his chest.

 

He gets ready to go to the studio through a routine numbness, the kind where you know you’re doing something, but can’t quite tell what that _something_ is until you’re already past that step.

His body feels heavy, his head even heavier.

The walk to the studio does little to help with his headache, the sun is only starting to rise, but the sunglasses perched on his nose are enough protection that the light isn’t excruciating.

The noise, however, is a completely different story.

He has his headphones in his ears in an attempt to muffle the too-loud traffic of Seoul, and it offers just enough comfort that he can manage to walk without throwing up.

They aren’t even connected to his phone.

The thought makes him snort. He grabs the cord left dangling in front of him and plugs the end into his phone, thinking about how practice would go later.

He had a few hours still to get himself together, just enough to keep up the facade that he was okay, that he’d be fine. 

 

By the time he gets to his studio, the only thought running through his head was the song he was working on, one that he was actually really proud of, one that he thought the others would really enjoy. 

Except when he checks, it’s not there.

So he checks a different file, but that one is empty too.

No. Had he deleted it?

He couldn’t have. No way. 

No way. No _way._

His hands are almost shaking too much to work the mouse of his desktop, it’s almost impossible but he _needs_ to find that song so he keeps clicking on files, even the ones he knows it’s not in.

He tries to tell himself to _calm down, it’s just a song,_ but it wasn’t. It wasn’t _just_ a song. It was _his_ song, one that he had spent countless hours trying to get right. 

Hanbin can’t calm down, he’s frantically searching through any file he can get his hands on but _it’s not there, he_ _knows it’s there, he knows, he knows, but—_

What was that?

It’s then that a hot pink square invades his vision, sitting unassumingly on top of his monitor. Maybe he was too tired, too panicked, too frantic to see it before, but now it was all he could focus on.

He can’t look away. 

Was that there before? He can’t remember, why can’t he remember?

With how bad he’s shaking, it takes a few seconds for Hanbin to get his hand to reach up and grab the paper, another few seconds to unfold it, and even longer yet for his eyes to focus enough to read what’s written on it.

The first thing Hanbin notices is the words are written in his favorite blue pen, the contrast between the ink and the obnoxiously bright paper just enough to keep him from spiraling.

_Hey Hanbin-ah! Sorry about your song. My hand slipped and I accidentally deleted the whole thing_

_:P_

_-Junhoe_

_P.S. Next time don’t be such a fucking asshole dude._

_P.S.S Your apology was also shitty._

If Hanbin was in a better mindset, or even just slightly more rational, maybe he’d think about how Junhoe wouldn’t _really_ do something like this. He wouldn’t do something to purposefully hurt him, right?

Junhoe wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t.

But he did.

The thought would normally fill him with a cold-dread, choking him and stealing the air from his lungs.

He couldn’t breathe, but it was something different. He was fucking _livid_ with Junhoe. He deleted days, _days,_ of work because he was upset with Hanbin.

The anger disappears soon after that thought, taken over by something close to _betrayal._ How could Junhoe do that? How could he just delete Hanbin’s passion? His reason for living?

He did it, probably feeling zero remorse, and that _hurts._  

The constant back-and-forth between emotions is starting to make him dizzy, the pounding of his head is growing less manageable and he still wants to throw up.

The fact that Junhoe could do this, _would do this,_ shows just how horrible Hanbin must have been, right? Junhoe did this out of spite, because Hanbin just isn’t a good leader.

He knows this, he always has, but that never stopped him from trying to be better, he _wanted_ to be better for them. 

It’s his fault, Hanbin fucking _knows_ that, but it doesn’t make the anger and the hurt stop choking him, and he just sits there. Trying to breathe, trying to calm down but it’s just not working.

The fact that someone he loves more than anything could just _do_ something like this hurts. God, it hurts so fucking _much_ but it was his fault. He made Junhoe hate him. 

 

It takes almost a full hour before he manages to pull himself together enough to make his way to the practice room.

 

* * *

 

Hanbin is late.

Hanbin is never late unless something bad is happening.

The first time he was late to a practice was sometime after WIN, Bobby had gone to the studio to find Hanbin curled up in front of his desk with his fingers tangled in his hair, scratches covering his hands and arms, and mumbling incoherently.

Bobby had been so confused on what was happening, and so damn scared, but he still reached out to maybe help soothe his shaking friend.

He was met with a slap to the hand before the younger turned to stare up at him, eyes wide and _lost,_ like he didn’t even understand what was going on.

And he didn’t, that much was obvious to Bobby now, years later.

Neither of them knew what it would become, so they didn’t talk about it. They didn’t know _how._

Bobby just gave his hoodie to Hanbin and tried to ignore the blood under the leader’s nails and the puffiness of his eyes.

He wished he hadn’t, as that was only the beginning of the downward spiral.

The second time Hanbin was late, he had run away during Mix & Match because everything was just _too much._

The third time was the worst, by far.

Bobby is almost positive that Hanbin has blocked this memory out completely, or at least has done a pretty convincing job of acting like he had no idea what Bobby was talking about whenever he tries to bring it up now.

He wishes he could repress the memory, the images still flashed behind his eyes sometimes when he slept.

Just before their debut, Hanbin had gone through a rough patch with writing, and YG was really not impressed. Leaving Hanbin constantly on edge.

Bobby had gone to Hanbin’s studio late one night, expecting to find a half-asleep and grumpy dongsaeng to drag away, but instead he was met with the sight of his best friend’s studio trashed and empty.

It took him nearly three hours to find Hanbin.

Standing on the edge of a bridge overlooking the Han River.

He had never seen the younger look so _defeated,_ and Bobby had never been so terrified.

He wasn’t even sure if he was going to make it in time, but he gave everything he had to get to Hanbin, racing up the bridge and almost missing. 

Just as Hanbin took a step, Bobby caught him.

Pulling the younger back into his chest and knocking them both to the hard concrete, Bobby caged his arms around Hanbin’s chest as the younger started struggling against him.

 _“Let me go,”_ he sobbed out, _“Let me go, let me go. Please—Please, I don’t want to do this anymore, make it stop.”_

Bobby couldn’t do anything but hold the hysterical boy against him, through the harsh sobbing and the whispered _“I don’t want to be alive anymore,”_ knowing that he could have lost him.

So, yeah. Excuse him for being a little concerned.

 

It’s at that moment that Hanbin throws the door open, and the wild _fury_ in his eyes does nothing to calm Bobby’s worry.

Bobby knows how this works. He knows the stages of Hanbin’s panic, even if he doesn’t understand all the time, and anger is almost always the first.

He doesn’t spare most of them a single glance before marching over to Junhoe as he yanks him forward by the collar of his shirt.

In any other circumstance, it would have been comical. Junhoe was not only taller, but a hell of a lot broader than Hanbin, but the fire in his eyes made it easy to forget that.

But still, seeing the leader standing next to Junhoe made Bobby realize just how much weight Hanbin must have lost recently.

 

Nothing happens.

 

And then—

“What the _fuck,”_ Hanbin seethes, “Made you _fucking think—That deleting my song was going to fix_ anything?!”

Hanbin almost can’t hear anything over the heavy beating of his heart in his ears, leaving him panting as he tries to catch Junhoe’s reply.

“Maybe you should learn not to throw _us_ away over a _stupid, fucking_ **_song,_ ** _”_ Junhoe grit the last word out, pushing Hanbin away from him as the smaller male stumbles slightly.

But he recovers fast enough to catch Junhoe before he stormed off, “Do you not understand,” Hanbin starts, speaking almost painfully slow, “That without those _stupid, fucking songs,_ this group doesn’t _exist_ anymore?”

He’s got his hands balled into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms and the pain is the only thing grounding him, anymore.

“Is that all we are?” Comes Jinhwan’s soft voice from across the room as Hanbin whips around to face him, “We’ve been together for this long but your job comes before our feelings?”

Everyone pretends not to notice the way his voice cracks half-way through, or the tear that’s making its way down his face.

“You _know_ I didn’t mean it like that,” Hanbin groans, growing even more frustrated. He figured they wouldn’t understand, but does this really mean that little to them?

A hand falls on his shoulder, making him jump slightly. He doesn’t even think before his arm shoots out to get the person _away_ from him, he doesn’t want to be crowded, doesn’t want to be _touched._

But then a collective gasp echoes throughout the room and Hanbin turns in stunned silence to see Donghyuk standing behind him, hand covering the red-mark on his cheek. There was already a scratch forming from where Hanbin’s ring must have hit.

He hasn’t even processed the fact that _he just hit Donghyuk_ before Jinhwan pushes him out the door and slams it in his face.

Donghyuk throwing himself at Bobby is the last thing he sees before Jinhwan’s angered glare.

-

It’s been 36 hours since Hanbin’s little outburst.

Hanbin is currently sitting in the cafeteria with Raesung, who happens to be the only person he’s talked to in the past day. He saw Chanwoo and Yunhyeong briefly whenever he went back to the dorm around lunch-time to shower, but by the time he got out, they were both gone.

They’re avoiding him because he can’t control his temper. He _hit_ Donghyuk. He hit on of their maknaes.

“Hyung? Are you even listening to me?”

Hanbin looks up to see Raesung looking at him with a mix of amusement and worry, a combination that he normally sees on the younger when he catches Hanbin in the studio, when he’s in that weird stage of exhaustion where everything seems funny.

Nothing seems funny now.

“Ah—Sorry, Raesung-ah,” Hanbin starts, “Just a little stressed is all,” and he shoots the younger a tired smile that he hopes is convincing enough.

It’s not, but Raesung doesn’t think it’s his place to say anything.

“Hyung, you should really eat more,” Is what he says instead, “Or you might make yourself sick.”

He already felt sick. He always feels sick, anymore.

“Don’t worry about me, kid. I just don’t really have an appetite right now, I’ll eat later.”

He will.

 

 

 

He doesn’t. But that’s not all that surprising, is it?

Eating just doesn’t register very high on his list of priorities, not when he has to remake an entire song, plus finish out a few others, in a week.

 

* * *

 

Speaking of, a few days later finds the group, sans leader, at the same ramen shop where the plan was formed.

Bobby can feel his eyes wanting to close against his will, but he forces them to stay open to put up with Jinhwan’s ranting about a too-expensive bag he had just bought.

With their private stage, RE-KONNECT, over, there was more time for them to just _relax._ So Bobby had used the time to catch up with his family, after catching up on sleep first.

He’s in the middle of telling Yunhyeong about the new robot vacuum his mother recently bought when Donghyuk seems to remember something.

“Guys,” he starts, “Did we ever tell Hanbin-hyung we didn’t delete the song?”

 _“Shit._ I’ve been so out of it that I completely forgot about it,” Bobby says with a groan as his head hits the the table with a _thunk,_ “I haven’t even seen him since then. _Fuck.”_

“Chanwoo and I have seen him in the dorm twice since then, but he looked too pissed off both times to talk to,” Yunhyeong says as the maknae nods in agreement.

Jinhwan’s eyes narrow, “So, if he’s still being pissy…Shouldn’t we wait to tell him?”

The others, mostly Junhoe, look slightly confused at his suggestion. So he continues.

“Wasn’t the whole point of this to show him that his outbursts actually upset us? He went too far, again, with his reaction to the song being deleted. He _hit_ Donghyuk.”

“He didn’t mean to,” Bobby argues back, “He doesn’t like being touched when he’s upset.”

“Um, I don’t want to contradict you, hyung, but Hanbin is literally the clingiest member of this group,” says Chanwoo, “And you touch him all the time when he’s upset and he’s fine with it.”

“Yeah, but I try to tell him before I do, or make sure he can see me. I’ve been punched enough times from sneaking up on him that I know he’s probably more upset with himself than you guys are with him.”

“Whatever,” Junhoe rolls his eyes, “I’m still mad at him. You can do whatever you want, but I’m not talking to him before he apologizes.”

“I’m telling him about this whole stupid thing at practice tomorrow, and we are going to resolve this fight, okay?” Bobby says, and then that topic is closed and they’re moving on to talk about BlackPink’s newest song.

 

* * *

 

“Seriously, hyung. I’m _fine.”_

Jaewon sighs as he pulls Hanbin’s head forward to rest on his shoulder, “You’re not fine. What’s going on with you and your group? I haven’t seen you and Bobby together for the last few days, and I didn’t even think you two were capable of spending more than a day apart if you didn’t have to.”

“He was visiting family,” Hanbin mumbles, “And we’ve all been busy.”

“Don’t lie to me. Something happened.”

Hanbin lifts his head up with a sigh to tiredly look Jaewon in the eyes, “I split on them during practice, and now they’re mad at me.”

“Keep going,” Jaewon gently prompts.

“And then Junhoe deleted that song I was working on—The one I showed you? But I have a meeting with YG tomorrow morning and—” Hanbin cuts himself of when he starts to feel his breathing speed up as he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Jaewon will get what he means anyway, and his headache is back and now the room is spinning and he should probably sit down, like, _now._

He doesn’t get the chance to voice any of this before he feels Jaewon pulling him over to the couch in his studio to sit him down with an arm curled around his back.

It’s not like he needed to say it, anyway, with the rapid flush in his face and the swaying, but Hanbin can’t be bothered to think about any of that right now.

“Bin,” Jaewon starts, waiting for Hanbin’s hum of acknowledgement to continue, “When was the last time that you ate?”

Judging from the lack of response from the younger, Jaewon doubts he even knows, and he’d be right. Hanbin’s stomach has been too _off_ recently to even think about eating.

“How about this, I call Raesung-ah to bring us up something from the cafeteria and after we eat, we can help you finish up some songs to present to the Big Man himself, okay?”

Hanbin drops his head back onto Jaewon’s shoulder, nodding slightly as the older rapper pulls his phone out to send Raesung a message.

It’s a long night.

 

But the next morning finds Hanbin and Jaewon finishing up one last song before his 9:30 time-slot with the CEO, blearily clicking through the software to add the finishing touches, Raesung had left at around 2 AM, after finally listening to Jaewon’s nagging at him to head out, but not before ruffling Hanbin’s hair and throwing him a _“Hyung, fighting!”_

Hanbin adores that damn kid.

-

You know that sort of anxiety where you’re so tightly wound up that all of your muscles are cramping and your stomach hurts and your head feels all floaty?

Yeah, that’s currently how Hanbin feels.

The meeting with YG had not gone well, to say the least.

YG had declined almost every song, and the only ones he even gave a revising option to were the ones Jaewon and Raesung had helped him with.

If anything, that just shows how bad of a writer he was. No wonder Junhoe had just been able to trash the file, that’s where it belonged.

What good was that award when he didn’t really deserve it? YG knows he didn’t deserve it, Hanbin, himself, knows. His groups knows. The general fucking public knows.

He’s done. He just feels tired and defeated and _alone._

What’s the point in fighting a war when all of your allies turn against you?

 

* * *

 

As soon as Hanbin walks into the practice room, Bobby knows that they need to fix this mess. The leader looks like shit, in all honesty. His hair is a mess and so is his skin, his eyes look empty and he just looks _defeated_ again, and it’s making Bobby’s thoughts flash back to that night on the bridge and it’s almost too much to handle.

He needs to fix this, and this petty argument before something _really bad_ happens.

But, of course, Bobby’s the only one that knows Hanbin’s anxious ticks. To the others, he just looks tired and pissed off.

Well, it’s now or never. Bobby shoots both Yunhyeong and Jinhwan a look, hoping the two eldest will at least somewhat understand what he means.

He has a bad feeling, and knows the others aren’t going to be prepared.

Bobby walks over to where Hanbin is setting up the keyboard to stand next to him, “Hanbin. We need to talk.”

“If this is about apologizing to Junhoe, give up now. I’m not the one that—”

“It was one damn song,” Junhoe exasperatedly groans, apparently having heard the two rappers talking, “And I never deleted the stupid thing. I just moved it to a different file because we _all_ decided that we were sick of you acting like an asshole recently.

Hanbin turns to look at Bobby, eyes swimming with _hurt_ before he steels his gaze to glare back at Junhoe, “WHat the hell do you mean you never deleted it?” He’s just barely _not_ yelling, “I had to have a meeting with YG today and all I fucking had to show him were a few shitty b-side tracks, which he hated, _by the fucking way.”_  

Okay, the not-yelling is turning into somewhat hysterics as Hanbin walks up to Junhoe, giving everyone a bad case of déjà vu.

Bobby needs to stop this _now._ Hanbin is working himself up and he’s going to do exactly what everyone thinks he’s going to do and _blow up._

It’s just not going to be like they expect.

“Do you not care about this group?” Hanbin spits out, “Do you want us to get disbanded? Huh?! I guess it’s only a matter of fucking time—”

Junhoe, again, finds this to be the perfect time to shove Hanbin away from him and start yelling back in retaliation.

Bobby sees Hanbin’s face go white, pushing past Junhoe just as his knees hit the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I started my first twitter fic?? 
> 
> Check that out on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/MVgetanAttitude)
> 
> It’s called OOPSIE DAISY! And it’s about snarky Bin and a flower shop with awkward blushy Bobby and tattoos may also be involved


	3. This isn’t a song where I’ll pretend to be strong and act tough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know know what im doing here anymore

Hanbin snaps out of his ranting when Junhoe pushes him back,  _ again. _ Two solid points of contact throwing him backwards just far enough to get Hanbin’s feet out from under him, but he doesn’t fall, not yet.

Not when Junhoe yanks him forward by  _ his _ collar, mirroring their positions of just seconds ago to scream back in his face.

_ “IF YOU WOULD JUST GET OUT OF YOUR OWN FUCKING HEAD FOR A SECOND, MAYBE—” _

And then he can’t hear anything.

His vision starts to blur. Inky blackness creeping along the edges, giving him tunnel vision.

Eyes locked on the door, it’s right there. The door is right  _ there, _ but getting there means going past the others, past  _ Junhoe, _ and he knows he won’t make it.

His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, he can  _ feel _ it slamming against the bone over and over and  _ over, _ and for a second, for a second he  _ swears _ his ribcage collapses as all the breath in his lungs rushes out in an instant.

He’s so fucking  _ scared _ right now. He doesn’t want everyone to see him like this, see just how weak he is, how fucking  _ broken. _ He doesn’t want them to talk to him, or touch him. He doesn’t want them to come near him, but the thought of being ignored again leaves him even more breathless.

And suddenly, all he can think about is how much they hate him, and how poorly he’s treated them. How much he  _ deserves _ this. 

_ Oh, god.  _

What if they decide he’s not _good_ enough? Because he’s not. He’s _not._ Not good enough. Not to be their leader. Who would want someone like _him_ dictating all of the group’s decisions? No one. 

No one.  _ No one. _

He doesn’t register his legs giving out until the shock of his knees hitting the hard wood below him breaks through his panic, only for a second, before he’s curling forward against his will. Trying to protect himself. One hand barely keeping him from hitting the ground face-first, the other clutching his chest as he desperately gasps for air.

Not _now._ _Not now,_ please, _not now._

_ Why now? _

_ Why? Why? Whywhywhywhy— _

Someone is behind him. Holding him.

But he doesn’t want them touching him, he doesn’t want this to be happening, but he knows it’s what he  _ deserves.  _ He deserves to feel like this. 

He doesn’t deserve to be held.

So he starts struggling, thrashing any which way he can just to break the hold because he wants them to  _ stop fucking touching him. _

And then a hand is being clutched against his own. 

Bobby. It’s Bobby. 

It’s always Bobby.

Bobby is  _ safe. _

* * *

Bobby didn’t bother calling Hanbin’s name out before rushing to him, not this time, not when he knew Hanbin wouldn’t be able to hear him anyway.

It had only taken a few steps, a few seconds, to get to where Hanbin was trying to make himself  _ disappear  _ before kneeling behind the younger.

He knows what to do in this situation. Yet everytime it happens, fear and uncertainty still swell in his chest, but he  _ knows  _ that he needs to keep it together.

Bobby’s not a very gentle person, but he’s trying as he snakes an arm around Hanbin’s front—the right balance between gentle and firm, but not constricting—and pulls the younger rapper so his back rests against his chest.

He expects it when Hanbin starts weakly thrashing in his arms, he just slips his hand under Hanbin’s to stop him from clawing at his t-shirt clad chest, only letting out the breath he was holding when Hanbin switches to clutching onto Bobby’s hand instead.

This is the point when Hanbin understands that Bobby is with him and he’s  _ safe, _ and the struggling stops and then Hanbin  _ breaks. _

Bobby can’t see Hanbin’s face scrunch up, he doesn’t need to, but he can feel when the broken wails take over the gasping breaths. He can’t do much more than wrap his other arm around Hanbin’s waist to wait for the next move.

He knows. Bobby knows.

 

And Hanbin knows.

Hanbin knows that it’s Bobby behind him and that causes the change from trying to get out of the tight hold to sinking back into Bobby’s arms and Bobby shushes him and starts rocking them together and Hanbin is  _ so, so, so  _ thankful to Bobby for not abandoning him because he’d probably give up on trying to breathe by himself.

He can’t remember when he started crying, but Hanbin is sobbing so hard that it begins to  _ physically hurt.  _ The panic is still there, choking him and clawing its way up his throat, and for a second he holds his breath, thinking he’s going to be sick.

But then another harsh sob comes tumbling out and Hanbin has to tighten his hold on Bobby’s arms, which he knows will cause Bobby to tighten the hold on his waist, and it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

He feels so  _ vulnerable  _ in this position, but at the same time so  _ safe. _

“It’s okay,” Bobby mumbles into the younger’s hair, and Hanbin can feel the sound reverberating through him, Bobby’s gruff voice filling up the emptiness in his chest, “You’re okay, Hanbin. You’re okay. This won't last forever, and I’ll be here as long as you need me.” The words come out calm and purposeful, none of the panic Bobby was feeling slips in and he’s grateful. “You can feel my hand,” he says, giving their joined hands a small shake, “Breathe in and squeeze, okay? I need you to do that for me. Just try to take a breath and squeeze my hand.”

Hanbin doesn’t want to listen, he just wants to collapse against Bobby so that’s what he tries to do instead, but Bobby doesn’t let him.

He knows Hanbin wants to hide, but if he lets him curl up like that, there’d be no chance of trying to stop the panic attack. They would have to ride it out until Hanbin makes himself pass out.

Bobby doesn’t think he can handle that right now, and he knows the others couldn’t.

So he tries again, giving Hanbin’s fingers that are laced through his a firm squeeze to jumpstart the muscle memory of other times they’ve had to do this, “Come on, Hanbin. Breathe in and squeeze my hand, just like this,” Bobby squeezes again and takes an exaggerated breath, trying not to let it catch, “Come on, just one breath.”

The way Hanbin can feel Bobby’s chest expanding against his back helps more than the elder will ever know, and the next time he feels his hand get squeezed, he tries to give the same amount of pressure back and he sucks in a choppy breath. 

He can’t hold it for very long, and he starts choking as the air rushes back out. 

It frustrates him. The one thing Bobby needs him to do is  _ breathe  _ but he can’t. That’s why he’s in this position. 

Because he can’t even do something as simple as fucking  _ breathing. _

“Slowly, Hanbin. Try again.”

Bobby gives his hand another squeeze and he tries, he  _ does,  _ but it stops and catches in his throat, Hanbin can feel it rattle around in his chest.  _ Brokenbrokenbroken, _ just like him.

But Bobby doesn’t reprimand him for not listening, he just squeezes Hanbin’s fingers again and presses a palm against the flat of his stomach, so Hanbin tries to  _ slowly _ take in another breathe.

Just like before, Bobby takes a breath with him, dramatically blowing it out after Hanbin managed to hold it after a few seconds.

“There you go. Just like that, Hanbin,” Bobby assures him, “One more time.”

Another squeeze to his hand, Hanbin drops his head back against Bobby’s shoulder and takes another choppy breath. But this time his chest manages to expand and Bobby’s hand rises along with it.

“And again.”

 

It’s once Hanbin feels like he can finally  _ breathe _ again that the sobbing picks back up. He wants to stop, but all of the emotions that he’s been trying to push away, shoved under mindless hours cooped up his studio,  _ finally _ have the chance to be let out.

It’s always so disorientating, the feeling of not being in control of your own emotions. Right now, all Hanbin can do is wrap his arms around himself, above where Bobby’s are now circling his waist, and just wait for his body to catch up to his mind.

He’s been digging his fingers into his upper arms without realizing it, not quite sure if he’s subconsciously trying to hold himself together, or tear himself apart. His nails leave bloodied crescents where they are, but then someone is pulling them away and the air is left stinging against the marks, and the feeling helps to calm him slightly before the panic is back.

Someone that isn’t Bobby is touching him, and that knowledge causes Hanbin to jerk forward in Bobby’s arms, desperate,  _ so desperate,  _ to escape the prying hands of the unknown person. 

It’s then that he remembers the others being present, and the suffocating feeling is back and his chest is back to feeling like it’s going to collapse again.

 

Right then, everyone recalls Bobby’s words from yesterday.  _ “He doesn’t like being touched when he’s upset.”  _

 

“Shhhh, calm down,” Bobby whispers, “It’s just Yunhyeong-hyung, he’s not going to hurt you,” and his left arm moves up from his lower back to gently cup the back of his neck.

Hanbin wants to cry out that  _ He did. Yunhyeong  _ did _ hurt him.  _

They all did, but he hurt them first.

“Want Jinani,” is all Hanbin can manage to gasp out, and he can feel Yunhyeong pulling away from him so he reaches out for the elder’s hand, not wanting to hurt him again, not wanting him to feel unwanted, not like he did. 

Yunhyeong’s hand meets his, and Hanbin’s fingers tingle at the smooth and gentle touch. So, so different from Bobby’s.

“He’s with the others, Bin,” and Bobby knows he shouldn’t have said that, because Hanbin lifts his head up slightly to turn to look at the others.

As soon as he sees Jinhwan sitting with Junhoe, the crying starts up again. If Jinhwan is with Junhoe, that means Jinhwan is siding with someone that hates him and  _ he’s going to lose his oldest friend now, too. _

“Oh, no. No, Hanbin,” Bobby corrects him, and Hanbin realizes he must have said that last thing out loud, “Junhoe doesn’t hate you, and neither does Jinhwan-hyung. Look again, Bin.”

Hanbin doesn’t want to lift his head from Bobby’s shoulder, doesn’t want to watch the room spin around him, but he still pulls away just enough to peer at the two once more.

They’re both…crying.

Jinhwan’s arms are wrapped around Junhoe’s neck, practically in the younger’s lap as he wiped at his tears.

“How are you feeling?” Bobby quietly asked.

Hanbin really only has the strength to shrug a little, almost wincing at the pull in his shoulders, before he really thinks about the question. He’s tired and his chest hurts and his throat is sore and his stomach feels like it’s being torched and his head has been filled with cotton, but the only thing he manages to get out is  _ “Cold.” _

Next thing he knows, Bobby starts gently manhandling him into a hoodie and pulls the hood up over Hanbin’s head, just like he likes. He only really has to think about the gifter of said hoodie for a few seconds before he recognizes the subtle smell of the detergent Yunhyeong buys the upstairs dorm and Chanwoo’s cologne. 

It smells nice, comforting. A scent he’s familiar with.

He’s also happy the hoodie is from one of the larger members because he feels a little bit more protected being draped in the fabric.

Hanbin doesn’t see Chanwoo’s smile when the leader pulls the neck of the hoodie to his nose before burrowing even deeper, but Bobby catches it.

Everything is finally catching up to him and all he wants to do is  _ sleep. _

For the first time in what has felt like forever, Hanbin doesn’t feel alone.

  
  
  


It’s easy for the others to forget that Hanbin is barely more than two months older than Donghyuk, a year older than Chanwoo.

It’s easy for the others to forget just how much stress he’s constantly been under the past 7 years.

It’s easy for the others to forget that Hanbin isn’t just a fierce gaze and harsh words.

 

Hanbin is barely an adult. He’s had all of this pressure put on him since the beginning of  _ them  _ and he used that pressure and turned iKON into a  _ diamond. _

And they shattered that and all got cut with the shards, but Hanbin is the one that shattered along with it.

 

Yunhyeong can’t believe that they did this to their leader. He may not be a main vocalist or a main dancer, or a main  _ anything,  _ but he is the heart of iKON. The others aren’t joking when they say Yunhyeong is the secret leader, he keeps them all together and worries when the others aren’t taking care of themselves. He stops Donghyuk from dancing until he drops, and Chanwoo from frying his vocal cords because he needs to be better.

Yunhyeong does all of this, but he did nothing to stop Hanbin from hurting himself.

He  _ helped. _

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by Chanwoo’s quiet  _ “Hyung?” _ and his attention shifts back to Hanbin and just how quiet he’s gotten. His rapid breathing has shifted into shallow and uneven wheezing, his eyes are unfocused and his head is lulled back against Bobby’s neck.

“I think he has a fever,” Bobby says, and Bobby would know, considering he’s the one stuck under the human-furnace.

Yunhyeong steps forward and gently grabs Hanbin’s face to turn to look at him, but the rapper’s face is flushed and warm under his palms.

“Bin-ah?” He taps Hanbin’s cheek lightly, “Are you still with us?” 

The worry dissipates slightly (not really) when Hanbin’s eyes finally focus on him. 

Yunhyeong stands up and sighs, “We should go back to the dorms,” he turns to face the eldest of the maknae line, “Donghyuk-ah, call the manager to bring the van. Tell him Hanbin’s sick and we’re taking him home.”

He waits for Donghyuk’s nod before turning back around to help Bobby lift Hanbin when a somewhat surprising voice speaks up.

“Can I carry him?”

  
  
  
  


Maybe the diamond didn’t shatter, after all.

Maybe it just got a little scratched up.

 

All they can do is try to buff it out and shine on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. yeah


	4. Chapter 4

original chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

original chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

original chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

original chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

original chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

original chapter 9

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!!
> 
> Leave me some comments below, check out my other fics and follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/MVgetanAttitude) @MVgetanAttitude!!


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